Mamashee, Issue 4, Volume 2

Herewith, the latest selection from dusted-off published poetry and short fiction, circa 1970s vintage and beyond....

The Harmony Of Our Sphere

The vortex of helpless words
spoken against the grain of
careful habit. There
.... they echo

bouncing as they do from my mouth
to your ears and back again
reverberating, refusing to
fade gracefully as such
words have no grace.

The balance of our unrehearsed
harmony hangs lopsided, out of
kilter and angry with itself.
Your mouth hard now and
grim with an anger

that my own reflects in surly
assertiveness. The air hangs
tight around us with a
perfect tension
.... of unease

and my mind runs through a bitter
litany of every miserable mark
my memory's stored against
the final reckoning.

My vision becomes microscopic and
like a skilled pathologist I
pick with a surgeon's
dainty touch among
the cells of

long gone deeds. Everything is
magnified and the pores of your
skin become caverns exuding
the lava of fault. But
.... the impasse

becomes deflated in its nothingness
of purpose as I trace the lines
of weariness around the eyes
that followed me through
some trying times

and finally I reach out with the words
I hope will expunge the
ravages of storm and say
will it make much difference
if I say ... I'm sorry?

c. 1978 Rita Rosenfeld
published in Mamashee, Winter Issue, 1978